It's lonely where we are. And still we stay the night, to talk it all away. I ask so many questions when I know you're listening; and still I'm sure you ask me more. It seems around this time of year the questions always turn out the same, yours and mine. How I get to you, where you and I meet; how we'll ever be the same. I'll not forget the questions, though they be too numerous to ever put down by heart. To be most certain though, I'll never forget your answers, when you finally spoke that rainy night. You told me I'd always be alone, and that's why it was ok, I'd always be with you.
Do you remember the night I tried to live, the first time I really heard you laugh out loud? The stars shining, the breeze restless as it always is; pushing through trees whose leaves have long ago decided there's someplace else they long to go. Your answers were never silence, I felt a little foolish at first; I didn't know what understanding really was, how it is to simply understand. And I know we can cross any distance that separates us now, your memories are my life; your life is in my memory.
I see the stars are out, the great eyes of the ancients look down upon us again. They see us all, every last one that has ever been. They remember you well, everything beautiful which twinkles in the night sky is a reflection before me of your glowing Irish eyes. I stretch my hand out before my face, perhaps to gain hold and climb to where you are. I wish to grab hold of the past; pull down and about me the great tapestry of the night sky, that you may speak to me again. I want that you could promise me promises, that everything will finally, resolutely be ok. Only the wind whispers now through my hand, tight as I may try to hold on, I must admit nothing's there. I know, I know, you don't need to say so; it is time I find my strength, maybe whisper to myself of things which never again may be. I'll not find you in the fashion as before, but rather in the things I remember, the things I believe about you and I, and in the thoughts of happiness and everything else beautiful in a world that reminds me always of you.
9-11-01, Lest we forget.
(Coming very soon, the post poison Ivy period: tales of big hair and buffalo bills, buffalo jills and spilled beer [I'll be funny again I swear!])
Do you remember the night I tried to live, the first time I really heard you laugh out loud? The stars shining, the breeze restless as it always is; pushing through trees whose leaves have long ago decided there's someplace else they long to go. Your answers were never silence, I felt a little foolish at first; I didn't know what understanding really was, how it is to simply understand. And I know we can cross any distance that separates us now, your memories are my life; your life is in my memory.
I see the stars are out, the great eyes of the ancients look down upon us again. They see us all, every last one that has ever been. They remember you well, everything beautiful which twinkles in the night sky is a reflection before me of your glowing Irish eyes. I stretch my hand out before my face, perhaps to gain hold and climb to where you are. I wish to grab hold of the past; pull down and about me the great tapestry of the night sky, that you may speak to me again. I want that you could promise me promises, that everything will finally, resolutely be ok. Only the wind whispers now through my hand, tight as I may try to hold on, I must admit nothing's there. I know, I know, you don't need to say so; it is time I find my strength, maybe whisper to myself of things which never again may be. I'll not find you in the fashion as before, but rather in the things I remember, the things I believe about you and I, and in the thoughts of happiness and everything else beautiful in a world that reminds me always of you.
9-11-01, Lest we forget.
(Coming very soon, the post poison Ivy period: tales of big hair and buffalo bills, buffalo jills and spilled beer [I'll be funny again I swear!])
Comments